Warm Days Cold Nights
by LoveOfLiterature
Summary: Jack has trouble coming to terms with Pitch's fate. How could anyone deserve non-existence? Black Ice. Jack Frost/Pitch Black slash.


_Oh Lawd, I've hopped on the bandwagon. Please forgive me!_

_And is it just me, or is it difficult to stick with just ONE pairing for Jack? (This story has just one pairing. I finally made the tough decision on this ship. Jack is captain and Pitch is first mate. Geddit? Mate? Never mind…) _

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I just sail my ships for fun. **

**Rating: Overall M. This chapter is what? G? No, PG. He thinks about murder. **

**CHAPTER 1: ADVICE**

Jack was a guardian through and through. He was made for it. He had made himself for it.

But Jack was not disillusioned about his dark side. All things had different aspects. Nothing was purely good. And Frost knew he was not purely good.

He did know he was mostly good.

At least he was pretty sure.

Most of the time.

But who could call his life threatening blizzards good? When ice froze pipes and power lines and people were cut off from heat for weeks, how was that good? Black ice on roads caused accidents. Snow storms made people lose their way. Frost killed new spring vegetation. Winter in general was known as a time of death and cold.

And Frost could not deny this side of himself. It was part of who he was. Without some evil how could anyone appreciate and enjoy the good aspects of life?

And this was why he was bothered by Pitch's fate. He didn't approve of the nightmare king's methods most of the time and they were certainly not friends, but without him how were the children of the world going to know that anyone was there, looking out for them?

Jack shrugged himself out of such potentially bleak thoughts. Being a guardian was turning out to be more stressful than he had anticipated. And most of it was his own mind working against him.

It was late August and North America was still held fast in the clutches of summer. The other guardians were busy and the mortal child Jamie was enjoying the heat and freedom of warm weather, so Jack had decided to swing by northern Russia for a few games and some relaxation.

He would be lying to himself if he didn't admit how lonely he was, though. He had gotten what he had always wanted and it all felt so…familiar. True, he was now a guardian and mostly visible along the east coast and mid-north American continent, but belief was slow to catch on in the old communist states of cold ex-USSR.

The frost spirit actually didn't venture out this way very often. This region was cold most of the time and rarely needed his assistance to work up a good freeze. Plus people were slow to come out of the haze of government controlled life. There just wasn't the spirit of belief that circulated some of the other counties of the world.

And now Jack idly followed the track of an elk and her fawn across the frozen meadow from his perch in a dead tree, pondering the fate and consequences of Pitch Black. Maybe he should give North a visit. The frost spirit was NOT in a playful mood, and North could almost always cheer him up. He hesitated only a moment before making a decision. He was still trying to acclimate himself to the kind of companionship and reliability that came with being a guardian. He had never believed himself capable of living up to the expectations of his newfound position, but somehow he had. And not just that, he felt like a better being for it. North was a perfect example of what he had gained.

Jack did not remember ever having a father as a mortal, but then he barely remembered much about anything having to do with his long departed family. Nonetheless, Jack thought of North as a father in certain ways. He was older and acted as a mentor when Jack needed guidance. He seemed to accept the frost spirit for who he was and even seemed to enjoy his company for the most part. There were certainly worse fathers out there. Maybe North could help him relieve some anxiety over this whole Pitch thing, too.

The young guardian wasn't sure what exactly was wrong with him. Pitch was a bad guy. He had been defeated before he could overthrow all of the good and hope in the world. He had tried to murder them all. And he had wanted to kill Jamie.

But somehow, even though all of these facts presented themselves logically, Jack couldn't shake off the tentative bond he felt with the lonely nightmare king. It bothered him that he could so easily think of Pitch as a totally evil being, yet feel any kind of connection to him. North would know what to say. He always had good advice.

It was worth a try.

After riding the north wind up to the pole, Jack casually let himself in though the main gates of North's kingdom. It still awed him that he was even allowed anywhere near the gates, much less allowed to pass into the center of the guarded fortress. Yetis still glared menacingly at him when he passed by, but he would always just smirk and wave a couple fingers in their direction, calling out to them by name when he knew them personally.

A few minutes later and after only a little hassle from guards, Jack found himself making himself at home in North's workshop. An elf brought him a plate of cookies, which he shooed off, and he sat easily in an overstuffed armchair to wait for his friend.

He felt a flutter of trepidation when an irritated North was ushered in through the stain-glassed door by a group of elves, growling that he didn't have time for more of their nonsense. Christmas was just four months away! But he quickly stopped his angry muttering when he saw that he had a visitor. "Jack!" he boomed in his great, accented voice as he unceremoniously threw great arms around the thin boy and squeezed.

Jack caught his breath as he was dropped back onto the floor, accidently spreading his lace of ice across the wooden surface. He couldn't stop the blue tinge that came to his cheeks when North cast a regretful glance over to his favorite (now completely frozen) armchair. "Sorry," he muttered, cuffing a bare foot against the icy surface below him.

North waved away his shame. "Oh, it is no problem. Nothing that will not thaw, eh?" he smiled, earning a sheepish grin from the youngest guardian. The large man cut off the awkwardness with a clap and rubbed his hands together as if to warm himself. "So, what is it that brings you to the pole, my friend?"

Jack didn't bother hide the grin that formed on his face at the familiar address. Gripping his staff more firmly, he focused on it with his eyes as he gathered his thoughts before speaking. "Just feeling a little off..." he began, finally looking up and into the expectant face of his fellow guardian. The unfamiliar interest and concern on another's features on his behalf pushed his thoughts away momentarily. "Why did you ever _really_ give me a chance?" he asked. It wasn't the question he had planned to ask, but he found he wanted to know.

North cocked his head fondly. "Man in Moon trusts you. Why should not that have been good enough for me? Turns out he was right."

Jack grasped onto this reply, finding it could maybe help clarify his uneasy state of mind. "Yeah, but the giant _kangaroo_ was right. I AM irresponsible and even destructive sometimes. Why wasn't I a bad guy like Pitch?"

A knowing grin formed on North's face. "You think Pitch is bad guy?"

Jack shrugged carelessly. "Well yeah. He spreads fear. He tried to kill Sandy. What's not bad about that?" A consenting nod accompanied his reasoning from the Christmas father as he spoke, but Jack could see it was simply from patience, not agreement.

"You are correct, Jack," North finally said when it appeared the frost spirit was finished speaking, "but YOU also spread fear from time to time. And even I can cause unhappiness, can I not? And it might be frightening to a child to think that someone invades their room at night to steal teeth. Does that make _us_ bad?"

Jack blinked. Then his confusion tinted with offense. "Wait, are you saying I'm the same as Pitch? Cause' you're wrong old man! I am NOT like him." The nightmare king's haunting words ghosted through Jack's memory. _We are the same. What goes together better than dark and cold_? He shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts. "I'm NOT like him," he repeated to himself quietly.

North watched the young guardian calmly. "Jack, you are correct. You are not like Pitch. He could not control himself, and was jealous and angry. You have none of those qualities. Clear you mind and forget your troubles, young friend. You. You are good. Never forget that."

The friendly and comforting words washed over Jack like a balm to his conscious. If the father of Christmas told him, the naughty list record holder, that he was good then who was he to argue? North was the expert on naughty and nice. Jack trusted his judgment. But something still didn't sit right with him. He mulled over his question before asking it. "North, is Pitch evil? Like truly evil?"

North just smiled at the boy fondly. "What is good worth without evil?" he asked cryptically.

Irritation began to creep in on the frost spirit. What kind of answer was that? "What kind of answer is that? That doesn't help me!" he huffed exasperatedly.

North just shrugged. "Do you think he is?" he simply asked back.

Jack dragged his palms over his face. Coming to North had been a bad idea. "I don't know," he groaned through his hands, "That's why I asked you!" He felt his feet leave the floor as the wind picked him up and cradled him.

"If you are having problems with your thoughts then just go see Pitch."

Jack plummets to the floor, landing with a hard thump. Ice crystals exploded around him from the contact, but he ignored it and stared at his mentor. "Are you crazy?!" he hissed.

North shrugged. "You were match for Pitch when he had all of his power. Now he is weak. What makes you afraid? You can judge him for self that way."

The youngest guardian considered the suggestion, drawing pictures into the frost surrounding him. What WAS he afraid of? Not Pitch. He was sure of that. He summoned the wind once again and gently drifted off of the floor. "Yeah...I guess..." he finally admitted.

Suddenly everything seemed better. A bright grin formed on his face as he nodded his thanks to his mentor. North smiled at him in recognition, and then gained an air of seriousness. Reaching into his pocket, he drew out a familiar marble. "You get into trouble, you use this. I will come and back you up," he instructed, handing the winter portal to Jack.

The boy took the gift thankfully. The gesture was not lost on him. He knew how busy North was now, and the offer was a sign of friendship and comradery. "Thanks," Jack whispered gruffly and looked again at his new friend, wrapping himself in a protective smile again to mask his insecurity, "Hopefully I won't need it."

North nodded and shooed him back through the workshop. Jack laughed as the larger man unceremoniously pushed him out the window without looking out to make sure he hadn't fallen. North had faith in him. Believed in him. Now he just had to live up to that.

He turned his thoughts away from his friend and focused on what he was about to do. The portal under the bed frame had disintegrated, but it was the best starting point to finding Pitch. He wanted answers and he wanted to clear his mind. Couldn't be burdened with intense existential questions when winter hit the Americas in a couple of months.

He had believers now after all.

_This does not mean I am not also working on Batman. I just have to spew my brain out when I can. This is my therapy. My crazy, crazy therapy. And Jack is such a fun character. Much different from what I normally work with in my silly brain. I can't help but love him. He's just so…flawed._

_Jack Frost is usually the villain, too. So this whole movie was a fun juxtaposition on this mythical character. Who doesn't want to play with that?_

_P.S. I wrote this on my Kindle and edited it on my computer. If there are flaws in grammar, spelling, etc., I apologize. _


End file.
